The Dark Side of The Moon
by Achilles
Summary: Demons have resurfaced on the earth once again, ready to steal the souls of every human being on the planet. No one is able to stop them except one girl who doesn't even know they exist. Authors note: This is a complete remake of Sailor Moon.
1. Bloody Ears

Disclaimer: Sailor Moon belong to it's respective owners. In way am I making money off of this.

This chapter is rated PG:

Disturbing imagery (Get used to the relative cleanliness of this chapter. Things are gonna get nasty later on.)

If you have any comments on my story, please send them to either "supasayan_99@yahoo.com" or "achilleswarr@aol.com". I check both addresses on a weekly basis so it doesn't matter which one you mail to.

Forward: I want to thank everyone who read the first draft of "The Dark Side of The Moon", and gave me their impressions while I talked to them on AIM. God, I can't remember who did because I was chatting with a bunch of people at the time, but thanks to you all. Unfortunately, halfway between writing this, my internet access was cut off by AOL since my Mom hasn't been able to pay (and if you're an IM buddy of mine and are reading this, now you know why I've been incognito for longer than usual). So how am I able to upload this, you ask? I'm doing this from the library. That's right, I'm putting the chapters on a disk, and using one of the computers at the library to send this to the website you are on now.

                Moving along, let me tell you, this is not really Sailor Moon. This is a remake. Everything's completely different: the characters, the setting, , the concept, even the content. See the note by the rating? Things are going to be graphic in future chapters, after everything's been set. There will violence, some nudity, language, and some things to do with Satanism. But don't worry, I will do things tastefully. No crap. Though, if you don't like these things anyway, you don't have to read this fic.

Oh, and I nearly forgot, I'm changing the costumes too. Please don't complain about this if you're disappointed. I found it rather corny that anyone could fight DEMONS wearing very short skirts and high heels, and actually beat them. I know it's fiction, but it doesn't work for me, so I'm changing the costumes to something I think is better. I mean, try putting on a tutu, go to the worst part of your town or city, come up to anyone who looks evil, and say you'll defeat them in the name of the Moon. 

                Well, read, relax, and hopefully enjoy yourselves.

_________________________________________________________

The Dark Side of The Moon

Chapter 1:

Bloody Ears

Date: August 20, 2010

Place: Cleveland, Ohio 

                Stepping onto the school bus, Naomi tried to think that nothing bad would happen at school, but she instantly gave up. Whatever anyone said to her, she would take it in the gut, and look away. No one this year, she hoped to God, could hurt her. 

                She was in the ninth grade now, her first day, but she didn't look forward to it. Trying not to stare at the faces of anyone in the bus, she searched for somewhere to sit.

                Every seat until the left seventh one was occupied with at least one person her one age, so she sat there against the window. She wore a black t-shirt with the name of her favorite band, _fAmIne_, on it, over black jean shorts with matching black lipstick. She even had black hair, dyed over her natural blonde. Her book bag, a blue one with the logo "JANSPORT" in red letters on the front, was set to her right.

                The bus had started up again, and headed to pick up several more students. While she gazed out the window at the trees, houses, and cars that passed by, no one sat with her. She preferred it that way.

                In a seat behind her, (she didn't bother to see how far back) a couple of other girls were talking in an enthusiastic tone.

                Once the bus made it to school, about twenty minutes after Naomi was picked up, everyone intuitively got up to leave the bus immediately. Naomi let few people pass ahead of her before she herself completely left her seat. When she got off the bus, she began to walk forward among the other students, like them, looking for a classroom for the first time since before summer. 

                After a few minutes she did find it in the E building, room 266, on the second floor. She opened the door, and the first person she saw was a thin black woman who couldn't have been about older than fifty. The woman, who had some gray hair at her temples, turned, and smiled broadly. Some wrinkles formed around her eyes.  She said, "Why hello there, I'm Mrs. Madison, may I ask what your name is?"

                "Naomi Kaufman," Naomi said. Her regular speaking voice was usually low.

                "Okay, let me check my list," And the woman scanned a clipboard she had in her hand. Mrs. Madison seemed to very cheery, and one of the last people to lose their temper. Very relaxed, easygoing. She gave Naomi a very comforting feeling. "Well, Ms. Kaufman," she said giving Naomi another warm beam, and pointing to the other side of the room. "You can sit right there on the fourth seat in the first row." Naomi walked there. Behind her, she could hear Mrs. Madison thoughtfully welcoming another student.

**********

                "All right, class, remember to turn the all of the papers in by Friday, signed by your parents," said Mrs. Madison to the bunch of thirty-five children that sat before her. "Now that we have that out of the way, let me discuss with you about High School. It can, and will be a major turning point in your lives. While the memories gained during can be wonderful, many find it hard to adjust to this. So, Ninth-graders, we'll be doing something special. We'll each introduce ourselves one at a time to the class so we can know each other better. Let's start with me.

                "My name is Rebecca Madison, but you can call me Mrs. M, or Becca. This is my fifteenth year of teaching, and before this job I was working as a nurse, and as you can see, I teach health. My beloved husband of twenty years is named Ronald. If you have any problems, and need help from an adult, I'll always be here to do that, no matter how serious. Very well, that's enough about me. We have about twenty minutes left in homeroom, so we'd better start cracking. First, we'll be picking volunteers, and then move on to everyone else."

                A few hands shot up. No way would Naomi be raising hers.

                The classroom lacked enough chairs for everyone, so some students sat by the computers and way in the back. 

                Madison pointed to one of the girls in the back. The girl, _white and preppy, _Naomi thought, nearly leapt from her desk, and grinned broadly at everyone in the class. She wore a pink shirt, and a denim skirt that rapped around her thighs. Her hair was red. "Hello," she chirped. Naomi thought she seemed rather air headed.

                "My name is Molly," the girl said. "I'm fourteen, turning fifteen in December. I like to talking to my friends on the phone, and hanging out with them." The whole time, she kept on grinning. "My favorite sport is swimming, so expect me on the team this year. I live with my parents, and my little sister. " Molly sat down, content with what she had to say.

                "Next?" Mrs. Madison said.

                A skinny Hispanic boy with glasses, and a well-puffed Afro raised his hand. His jeans were baggy, but not but not so much that he had to raise them up. Mrs. Madison pointed to him, and he got up.

                "My name is Melvin Hanson, I'm fifteen. I like playing baseball, and goofing off with my friends…" at that Naomi stopped listening to what anyone else had to say. She paid more attention to how the other kids acted, and dressed. People like Molly, and Melvin seemed to be nice. Mrs. Madison too. But everyone had an ugly side, and Naomi was watching for how well they hid it.

                Some more people talked, but Naomi never really listened, just looked. Soon she drifted off, and let an imaginary CD player go on in her head.  Though she had her real one in her book bag along with her favorite CD, she knew the teacher would tell her to put it away. Besides, sometimes pretend was better the real thing. For a few minutes 

                "Naomi, honey, it's your turn." Naomi snapped awake from her pretend concert to see Mrs. Madison looking at her.

                "Hm?"

                "I said it's your turn. Come on, don't be shy, tell the class about yourself."

                Oh, shit. How long had she been daydreaming?

                "Um, okay," Naomi said, and heaved herself up, her arms straight down her sides. 

                She stared at the blackboard, wondering what to say. Everyone else's eyes were crowding upon her. Suffocating her. She felt claustrophobic. 

                "Darling, are you feeling fine?" Mrs. Madison said. Her face was bent with worry.

                "Oh…yes…uh…uh, my name is Naomi Kaufman. I'm fifteen. My birthday is on the thirtieth of June. Um, I like going on the internet on my computer." A short pause. "Sometimes I like to write poetry maybe. I live with my Mom. We moved here from San Francisco a month ago-"

                "Hey, did you happen to be there for the big quake?" someone asked abruptly. Naomi found out it was Melvin, who wore a gleam of interest in his eyes.

                "Uh. Yeah."

                "Tell us about it," another boy said. 

                Some of the other students perked up a bit, and agreed. 

                Naomi's feeling of being ensnared scratched at whatever comfort she had. She still felt her throat tighten up as if somehow filled with glue.

                She closed her eyes, the memory of blood in her nostrils.

                "Dear, would you want to stop now?" Mrs. Madison's eyes wilted down. She had actually been worried.

                "I…" 

                _RIINNNGG!!!_ The piercing edge of the bell hit the air. All, with their book bags, began to leave the class.

                "Head to your first period class," Mrs. Madison said. Before she left to usher the other students, she glanced at Naomi with a look of pity.

                Soon, Naomi herself picked up her book bag, and walked out of the classroom.

**********

Time: August 20, 2010

Place: Meeker, Colorado

                The body Tzu currently inhabited was one which used to belong to a muscular, young black man. It was in good shape, and seemed to not to suffer from any physical problems. He had chosen well. And to find one like it when his demon body had been deteriorating like it had been was very lucky for him. Especially to travel in such a populated world.

                And for the ability to envelope the mind of the host he was. For to learn all he needed to so he could hide, and work, was a lifesaver, and if he didn't he would stagger through humans like an idiot, drawing too much attention to himself.

                The name of the host was Larry Anderson, and he had short puffy hair, and a short beard when Tzu found him, but he shaved both the beard and hair so no one the man knew could recognize him if they saw the walking body. The clothes he wore, khaki pants, and a white shirt with buttons and sleeves, stunk slightly, as he hadn't bathed since he took the body, and that had been a while ago.

                Tzu sat finishing the Big Mac, fries and Coca-cola set out in front of him. His cash was dwindling, however, getting more could mean robbing someone, and he hadn't the means to do it without exposing himself.

                And he was alone on this world. The rest were locked away in the Void until he found the correct body and got the appropriate amount of souls. But there was no problem. No opposition to stop him was left alive.  

                As he stepped from the restaurant, he could not help but see how things had changed. Sturdy, massive buildings stood about him. Schools, homes, businesses.  There were giants metal objects that flew higher than he ever did in his original body. Things called cars that sped faster than any horse; except the ones he used to keep. Everyone from the rich to the poor had some sort of luxury. 

                He smiled at the thought of all to be in flames within months. Even he had a sense of humor. 

**********

                When the earthquake began, the top half of Naomi's grandmother's body was crushed by a piece of the ceiling that had fallen. Poor old woman had been reclining on the couch in the living room. Naomi saw it happen, she had been watching her sleep.

                Naomi remembered the nauseating crunch when the debris hit her grandmother, and she remembered how the legs still twitched after it happened, the heels of grandmother's feet digging into the arm cushion.

                Her father heard the noises, and came. He hesitated, seeing his mother dead, and picked up Naomi, running for the door. He opened it. Half-way through the door, the house began to crash down, and though h, and Naomi were able not to get caught under the worst of it, his head was smashed open by a piece of debris.

                Naomi spent several hours crushed under her father's chest, the blood from his head streaming down the shattered drive way. With one ear against his chest, she could hear his breathing slow, weaken. Until it stopped. Her own breathing was coarse. 

                She didn't know how long she stayed there until she heard the laughter.

                Like jagged knifes, they drove in her ears. Her screams were muffled. She didn't know where it came from, only that it was horrible, it needed to stop. And then the voices who laughed began to talk.

                _We will eat you._

                "Just stop it," she said.

                _We will eat your bones, your heart, your skin, your soul when we find each one of you._

"Shut up!"

_                Your souls will be devoured._

"Dad, wake up! Make them stop it!"

                _And you can do nothing, Mortals._

                "Daddy! Help me!"

                _You will all die._

**********

                The firefighters found Naomi, and her father at around midnight. They hoisted Naomi's father off of her, and lifted her up to a stretcher. He in a body bag. It was around midnight, and her ears were bleeding.****

To be continued…


	2. Lunar Path

Disclaimer: Sailor Moon belongs to its respective owners. In no way am I making money off of this.

This chapter is rated PG-13 (You'll miss chapters like these) for:

Language

Violence

Forward: If you've read this on Fanfiction.net, and have noticed that I said this fic was going to be graphic, you'll think that I was trying to put up a NC-17 fic when they don't allow them on FF.net anymore…well…I was…by accident. See, I've been lacking access to the Internet since AOL cut my family's prescription (don't ask as it's about money), and still don't have it at my home. I didn't learn about FF.net's No-NC-17 policy until I was uploading the first chapter at the library. So, instead of editing my soon to be NC-17 fic of content, I'll not put it up on FF.net anymore except for this chapter. If you like what you see and don't mind the graphic content, check out the following sites as they have my fic posted on them:

Saiyanz Power (It's a DBZ site of course): Its URL is http://www.saiyanzpower.com/. Check it out. It's a great site, with chunks of info (the most since Planet Namek, and Ginga Giri Giri), and run by a bunch of great guys who I e-mail regularly.

D.Moon: URL is http://dmoon.animationhq.net/main.shtml.  A Dragon Ball/Sailor Moon site. Has nice info on both series.

Moving on, I want to say that yeah, things seem to be going slow, and somewhat boring. My mistake, but I promise lots of action soon. Besides, I can't move too fast without developing everything. This issue was brought up by the man they call The Smooster. So thanks, man.

P.S: I just realized that my fic has the same name as a Pink Floyd song. No, it's not a reference. In fact, I hadn't even heard of the song before some time ago. I found out about this a few weeks ago when one of my classmates came in wearing a funky-looking shirt with the name of my fic on his back; boy was I surprised. I asked him what was with the title, and he said it was from a Pink Floyd song. So there you go, it's not a reference, just a mere coincidence. Not that I'm above references…

_________________________________________________________

The Dark Side of The Moon

Chapter 2:

Lunar Path

Date: August 20, 2010

Place: Cleveland, Ohio 

                The new high school was definitely cleaner than her old middle school. The worst smell she caught was from this one guy in her third period. Not as much as cursing, no fights in the courtyard yet. The paint even looked somewhat new. But the school was still absurdly crowded; all her classes probably stacked up to thirty-five students at the least. She still didn't expect friends.

                It wasn't too surprising she flinched when another girl surprised her during lunch.

                She had been sitting alone, eating pizza, and the girl come from behind her.

                "Oh, I'm sorry. Did I scare you?" It was Molly. She was wearing a flaring red skirt, and a tight silk-type shirt covered with designs of pink, scarlet, and violet flowers.

                "Um," she started, "do you want to sit with me, and the guys. We thought you'd like to talk."

                Instantly she was suspicious. "No, uh, I'm fine." She nearly stammered while speaking.

                "You sure? Space isn't a problem. You can fit."

                "I'd rather sit alone."

                Molly's grinned was wiped off, and she said, "Okay. Anytime you want, you can come sit with us," and she went off to a nearby table. Naomi didn't bother to look where.

**********

                Molly caught up with her in the hall the next day during the time between second and third period. Naomi had her book bag on, while Molly carried her own books. They walked (Molly followed Naomi) through the building.

                "Hey," Molly said. She smiled, and her gums barely peeked from under her lips.

                Naomi's agitation, if it solidified, would've choked her. "Hi," she said, nonetheless.

                "So what class are you going to now?" Molly asked.

                Naomi sputtered "Photo" as if the answer was going to sound stupid.

`               "Photo? That must be interesting." Molly actually sounded enthusiastic.

                "Yeah, um, it's really nice."

                "Doesn't Mr. Hathaway teach that class? I hear he's pretty goofy."

                "Um, yeah, I guess," said Naomi, looking down, and shrugging her shoulders. Her best attempt at being polite under pressure.

                A moment later when they were outside of the building, Molly said goodbye, and left Naomi.

**********

                _Actually, Mr. Hathaway is kind of goofy,_ thought Naomi as she sat in Lunch eating a cheeseburger. Otherwise she let her mind stroll. 

                The cafeteria was noisy, of course. Some tables had up to seven people sitting by them. A few people walked out into the courtyard. 

                Her daydreaming was interrupted when she noticed two boys walking towards her. One of them found to be Melvin, and another, much larger boy who was black, wore baggy jeans a shirt with the Phat Farm logo on it, and had short, puffy hair.

                She flinched as they came up on her, and lifted her chair from both sides on their shoulders. Her chair rocked back and forth, and she had to grab the front of it so she didn't fall off. She barely noticed that the larger boy had her lunch in his left hand, and Melvin had to lift her with both his arms. A few people shouted and giggled at the scene.

                Soon they set her down at one table, and Naomi found herself facing Molly. Molly looked astonished, just like Naomi felt. 

                "God damn it!" said Molly, uncharacteristically. "What the hell are you two doing?"

                Melvin grinned as he sat down next to Molly, though he seemed a bit tired, and said, "You said you wanted her to come here."

                "God damn. Yes, but not by dragging her here!"

                "Oh, please," said the larger boy, "I'm sick of your nice girl routine. You said, 'Oh, I feel so sorry for her, she seems she lonely,'" as he said this he made his voice higher pitched. "'Why does she sit alone at lunch? I don't think she has any friends.' We couldn't stand seeing you like that, Molly, so we did what we did." He grinned.

                Melvin snorted. Naomi just noticed two other kids at the table: one was a black girl wearing a white POLO shirt, and brown skirt; and the other a white boy, choking with laughter at the previous jaunt, with a long bent nose, in a strange red and green plaid-looking shirt, and loose jeans.

                Erasing her grim expression and turning it into a concerned one, Molly looked at Naomi, and said, "Are you fine? Did those two dorks scare you?"

                "No, I'm fine," Naomi said breathlessly, though she was pretty tired from the earlier escapade. 

                "Of course she's not hurt," said Melvin, smiling. "Aren't you? We were gentle with her, Molly, don't worry."

                Molly roller her eyes before she introduced the others at the table to Naomi and Naomi to the others. Melvin she knew, of course. She still remembered vaguely that his last name was Hanson. The larger boy's name was Albert, the third girl's name was Cindy, and the other boy was named Chad.

                "So, you said that you came in here from San Fran," said Melvin. "Were you there for the quake. That was some freaky shit that went on there."

                "Melvin, that's none of your business!" Molly said.

                "That _was_ some fucked up shit," Chad said.

                Cindy sneered, and said, "Shut up, Chad." "So," she said trying to finally change the subject. "What classes do you have?"

                "Didn't you say you had Photo?" Molly said. "Chad, and Alberto have that too, but during forth period."

                "Yeah," Naomi said.

                "You know that Mr. Hathaway is gay. Right, Naomi?" said Albert.

                "'Alright class,'" said Chad giddily, beginning an impression. "'We're going make some pictures. Don't get chemicals on yourselves.'" As he said 'pictures', he jumped in his chair with a fake flightiness.

                "Stop being a homophobe," Cindy said finally, looking at Chad. "He's probably not that gay."

                "Have you even seen that man?" said Chad. "He's so fruity I can smell freaking oranges when I'm around him." He grinned, but stopped when a frail man wearing glasses, and a business suit, holding a black walkie-talkie. Naomi figured he might have been Mr. Watson, the vice-principal.

                "What's going on here? I saw you carry this girl here." Mr. Watson's voice was rather deep for someone of his size. He looked back, and forth between the students, paying the most attention to Naomi.

                Naomi said, "No, it's okay, really." She paused. "They were just joking around." She blushed when she noticed her voice was too higher pitched than her normal one.

                Watson's eyes squinted a bit, and he said, "All right then, but no more of this. I'm only letting you off since school just began, but I don't need you all doing this again. Understand?"

                "Yes," said Molly politely. Chad did too, mocking Watson's voice, impersonating it slightly. Watson seemed to make no note of it, and went off.

                Cindy turned to Chad, and said, "Oh, God, Chad, you're so immature."

                Albert and Melvin chuckled, and no one said anything for a few moments. The others ate, but Naomi sat gaping down at her food, searching for words to use if she had to.  

                She turned to Melvin, hesitated when he looked up from his food to her, and said, "Hanson. Your last name is Hanson."

                "Yeah," Melvin said, and sipped chocolate milk with his straw.

                "I thought you were Hispanic. I mean, you are Hispanic, right? Um." She blushed intensely when she realized that her question was a daft one. 

                Surprisingly, Melvin smiled, and said, "I was adopted when I was about two."

                "Sorry for asking."

                "No problem."

                _Oh, God, that was such a bad idea. I really messed up. I wonder what they would think if I moved back to my other table. What would they do?_

                Naomi lurched in her self-pity until the end of lunch, where the others said nothing to her except their goodbyes.

**********

                She clutched the straps of her book bag as she stepped off the bus at her stop.

                She should've talked more, definitely. Or she should have spoken at all. Naomi couldn't do anything but freeze in the middle of the sidewalk, and brood. Though, sooner or later she began to tell herself that she couldn't have done it better no matter how much harder she tried.

                "Get out of the way, you idiot!"

                Naomi hopped onto the grass. A bicycler hustled by her, looking back when he was a few feet further from her. "Shit-head," he muttered.

                Nevertheless, she headed the way the bicycler came from to the apartment complex she lived in. She took two minutes to reach the shabby, yet modest place called Rosewood. Each building was three stories tall, probably with twenty to thirty apartments; she never bothered to count. She lived in the building to the back. 

                As she passed a dumpster, she heard a meow. What shocked her was the cuteness to it. Smooth. She looked, and saw a black cat peering from under the dumpster. It had a very small scar on its forehead where it had no hair.

                Naomi turned, and walked away, positive that the cat was a stray. As she reached the stairs, she heard another meow from the cat. She looked behind her, and found it at her heels.

                Frowning, she said for the cat to scoot off, but it didn't. Instead of following the spontaneous wanting to nudge it away, she went up the stairs, and didn't look back at all.

                She made it to her apartment, and opened the door with her set of keys. The ac was still broken, but the heat inside was not oppressive. Shutting the door, she set her book bag at her side, and entered the small kitchen to get a glass of orange juice. Nothing was in the fridge except a half-empty jug of milk, an almost empty bottle of ketchup, some lettuce, eggs, apples, a few slices of cheese, and a can of tuna. 

                Mom must have finished the orange juice earlier in the morning. She was at work now, and Naomi rarely saw her. Naomi grabbed an apple and began to eat it.

                A curiosity to check on the cat scratched her mind. Of course, she followed it.

                She came back to the door, opened it, and her heart jumped in her chest when she almost kicked the cat. It sat at its hind a foot away from the door.

                Naomi plucked it up with both her hands, and stared at its green eyes. The scar on its forehead was shaped like a fuzzy crescent moon. The eyes reminded her of radiant emeralds, but that was the only truly beautiful thing about it. She saw it had almost no meat on it. It looked as if it would shiver even in a place that was just cool, and not freezing. She wanted to take care of it, and feed it like a mother would. She began to cradle it in her arms.

                Giving it a can of tuna wouldn't be so bad. Mom was planning to go to the grocery store tomorrow anyway. Naomi didn't want to let it die; she absolutely didn't want that.

                Rubbing its fur, she brought it into her apartment.

**********

Date: August 21, 2010

                Tzu was walking in the downtown area of Monticello, Utah, in the middle of the night when the earth was nearly dead except for the rabid young humans who went to dance clubs and parties. He observed the alcohol shops, the strip clubs, the super markets, the convenience stores, and the apartment complexes; all buildings bigger than some houses of his time.

                "Wait for several more months, my father, my creator. Then I will have the means to free you," he said thoughtfully, staring at the sky. Only a few dim stars could be seen.

                "Fuckin' weirdo." Tzu was at a street corner under a streetlight when he heard this.

                He looked to his left. A robust Hispanic man with a stubby beard, holding an empty beer bottle, wearing a Dallas Cowboys jersey and jeans, stared at him. Tzu read the man's mind, with little trouble, and found that his name was Rico. 

                Rico, an ex-security guard, was a heavy drinker who used abuse his wife and children on a regular basis. Sooner or later the wife got the backbone to divorce him and take custody of their children, and jet out of the state. That was three years earlier. Since then, Rico lost his job because of too many missed days. Now he worked as a construction worker, but he didn't seem to be doing very well there either.

                After taking all the information in, Tzu said, "Am I?"

                "Damn right you're a fuckin' weirdo. Fuckin' weirdoes are all over the fuckin' place these days." He thought he smelled Rico decaying from the inside, but it was the just the man's breath.

                "Would you like to be my servant?" Tzu never changed his calm expression. He knew Rico was just a pathetic, bitter fool, looking for a fight with whomever he thought he could beat.

                "You a queer too? Faggot. Get outta my face 'fore I fuck you up."

                "Hm? Are you saying no? You cannot say 'no'. You do not have a choice."

                "You've a fuckin' choice to get your homo-fuckin' self outta my face." Rico held up his bottle like a battle club. His voice was tired but fierce.

                Tzu was unimpressed. He stepped forward. Rico lunged at him. Tzu titled his head so the bottle missed it. 

                He then implanted his left hand into Rico's chest. Blood dribbled from the mark. The sound of breaking flesh, bone and clothing was outdone by Rico's faint screaming.

                Tzu stood unmoving, impassive, as Rico kept slamming the beer bottle into his face. Even when the bottle broke.

                Soon Rico stopped moving, his eyes shut. Flickers of electricity could be seen in the blood, and in Tzu's eyes. Rico's body began to seizure. It seemed as if all that was keeping him from falling was Tzu's hand in his chest.

                A minute passed, the sparks gone, and Tzu let go. Blood trailed his soaked hand as he pulled out.                 Rico fell onto his knees, and elbows, and got up slowly. Both his eyes were now a shade of gray, but Tzu knew that would happen.

                "Take off your shirt," said Tzu, and began to unbutton his. Rico did likewise. "Drop that one, and take this." He handed Rico his shirt, and Rico put it on. "Now," he said, bare-chested. "Let us head out to do what were made to."

To be continued…


End file.
